Returning to Loss
by loverly8
Summary: Hermione Granger returns to Hogwarts for her seventh year of schooling, not realizing how much pain being in the building will cause her. When she finds comfort in an unexpected place, will she be able to forget the mysterious boy in her dreams? HGDM
1. Chapter 1

Hermione Granger was standing at the top of the astronomy tower, waiting, watching. Knowing that he would come to her. She stood there, quite near the edge, looking over the grounds of Hogwarts, still in a state of mild disrepair after the final battle last year. Returning for a seventh year seemed like such a poor idea now, with all the sad memories etched into the building. She sighed.

"Why so sad Granger?" asked a boy with a familiar smirk on his face. "Did you think I wouldn't come?"

Hermione quickly turned around. "I was more worried that you'd been caught by Filch."

"Aw come on, do you really think I'd let that Squib catch me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and moving closer to Hermione.

"No, no of course not," Hermione said blushing. "I just… I worry about you."

The boy closed the distance between them in an embrace. "Don't," he whispered, before his lips met hers.

And then suddenly the kiss deepened, his hands in her bushy hair, her arms around his thin but muscular frame.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Waking up suddenly, Hermione Granger desperately tried to remember where she was. She calmed as she made out the familiar walls of the girl's dormitory in Gryffindor tower. This calm didn't last long before she remembered her dream. _Again? _She asked herself, for the boy had been recurring in her dreams frequently these past weeks.

She sat up in bed and took a sip of water from the cup by her bed – an old muggle habit she had never really broken. Closing her eyes she focussed on her dream, hopelessly trying to determine who the boy was. He seemed so familiar, with features she swore she would recognize if she ever saw them outside of her dream life. That same old smirk every time, that voice, dark, but incredibly sexy and that unmistakable smell that she couldn't quite place.

Realizing that there was no point in continuing to prod her mind into revealing itself any further, Hermione lay back down, trying to slow her still-racing heart beat. Deep breaths in and out, in and out, in and out. In and… out. Soon she was sleeping again, half dreading the dream for fear of the unknown, and half lusting for it so she could finally know who the boy was.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Later that day, in Potions class, Hermione found herself musing about the past year. So much had happened. They had defeated Voldemort, but at great cost. While she had chosen to return to Hogwarts with Ginny, to obtain her N.E.W.T.S., Harry and Ron had taken up the Ministry on their Auror offer, never even entertaining the idea of returning to their school. Hogwarts was different now though. Its building was still scarred, and would be forever, with dark curses that refused to be fixed, with memories of the dead, and with that lingering feeling of terror and loss.

Hermione liked to think that things would've been different if Dumbledore had still been alive. If he had been able to help Harry in the final battle. She stubbornly believed that if he had of been there, the school would not carry its sad story on with it for eternity. Ron thought this was a stupid idea, and that the school wasn't really any different than it had been for all of their years at Hogwarts.

It was this sentiment that made Hermione break up with him. She just couldn't understand how Ron could so easily forget the events that had occurred. For Hermione, remembering was a daily ritual. She would walk past where Tonks and Lupin had lay and have to suppress a sob. The Potions room often reminded her of Severus Snape, his dedication to the cause, and how none of them had ever truly understood him.

Everywhere she went in the school reminded her of something, of someone. It was painful, true, but she felt as if coming back was something she had to do. Early in the year McGonagall, now headmistress, had pulled her aside and told her that she could take the N.E.W.T.S. from home if being in Hogwarts was too much for her. Hermione told her a firm "no", that she was fine, and that she would continue at Hogwarts until the end of her seventh year.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione started at Slughorn's words. "Sorry Professor, what did you say?"

"I was just going to ask you how your potion was coming along, but, as usual I see that it's coming along swimmingly." Slughorn said with a smile.

"Oh… Thank you Professor." Hermione said before turning back and focussing solely on brewing the perfect Potion, putting all thoughts of other things to the back of her mind.

She was just adding powdered root of asphodel, the last ingredient, when she felt someone's eyes on her. Looking up she spotted Malfoy at the seat across from her, turning away quickly.

"Can I help you with something Malfoy?" She asked, curious.

"Whatever would make you think that I would need your help Granger?" he snarked back at her. The remark, though cutting, lacked what Hermione liked to think of as "the old Malfoy charm". Nothing he said anymore had any real conviction. His words may have been meant as rude and snarky, but they lacked any true bite.

Feeling curious, and all too brave, Hermione asked, "Are you alright Malfoy?"

He turned slowly to face her. "My father's in Azkaban, my mother's heartbroken… and I just can't bloody focus in this school anymore. Do you think I'm okay?"

A stunned look graced Hermione's face. From her recollections this was possibly the longest sentence that Malfoy had ever said to her that didn't contain a stinging insult about Gryffindors or her blood status. She also realized that, for once, they both felt the same way.

"I know what you mean… about this place." Hermione whispered, noticing that Slughorn was looking their way.

"How could you possibly understand? You may mourn the losses, but you have no idea how it feels to have been a part of the very thing that caused them." Malfoy whispered back before Slughorn reached them.

"Is there, uh, a problem, Miss Granger? Mister Malfoy?" he asked looking quizzically back and forth between the pair he thought least likely to get in trouble for excessive talking in class.

"No." they answered in unison. Blushing, Hermione turned away and went back to brewing her potion.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Sitting in the cold, damp recesses of the Slytherin common room, Draco recalled the day's events. Remembering what he had told Granger, he couldn't help but wonder why he had allowed himself to reveal so much. It was odd, but within those brief moments, it had been like a weight had been removed from his chest. Almost like he could breathe again without the usual pain of guilt.

Shaking his head vigorously, he decided that saying those things had been a fluke. Just a lapse in judgement and reason. And feeling like he could breathe again? He must've inhaled too much of the fumes that had spewed from his potion when he added the wrong amount of asphodel.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Hermione trudged into the Gryffindor common room weary, with little energy left. She had just spent her evening in the library, as usual, completing all of her required homework precisely on time, and with precisely the required amount of writing.

Bumping into Ginny on her way up the stairs, she waved a quick hello before continuing her way up the staircase. She hadn't bet on Ginny following.

"Hermione, can we talk?"

Surprised, Hermione looked up, "Oh, sure Gin, what's on your mind?"

"Well, I was just wondering if, uh, you're alright?" The similarity of the question pulled her back into Potions class, and Malfoy's inexplicable confession.

"Yeah Ginny… I'm fine, why d'you ask?" Hermione countered, as she shimmied out of her robes and into her flannel pajamas.

"Well, it's just, you seem different here, at Hogwarts." Ginny reflected. "Right after the war, before we came back here, you were your usual cheerful self. Now you seem sad all the time."

"Sad? Me?" Hermione began to lie as she turned down her bed.

"Don't deny it Hermione. I know it's hard for you to be here. It's hard for me to be here too. I mean, I take the long way to Charms class everyday just to avoid…" Ginny trailed off. "But you, you seem worse. Almost like you're losing your will to live."

"I'm fine Ginny. Just a little sad that's all... Don't worry, I'm not going to go throw myself off the Astronomy tower or something. It'll all be fine. I promise."

"Well… okay. If you say so. 'Night Hermione." Ginny said hesitantly before leaving the dormitory.

"'Night" Hermione mumbled as she lay down. One solitary tear dripped from her eyes before they closed and she relaxed into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione Granger was down in the dungeons of Hogwarts, wandering. She was hopelessly lost. Walking back and forth, this way and that, she had no idea how to get back upstairs to the comfort of Gryffindor tower and her dormitory. Everywhere looked familiar, and yet nothing was causing a "eureka" moment in her mind that would allow her to go back to the part of the castle where she was the most comfortable.

Suddenly one door seemed to call to her, and she ran urgently to reach it. Upon pushing it open, she observed an empty stone room, covered in shadows. Entering, she caught a slight movement in her peripheral vision. In the darkest corner, sitting down with his back against the wall, was a boy.

Hermione stepped towards him, but stopped when she noticed that he was rising and beginning to walk towards her. He approached her, a look of relief evident on his face.

"Hermione, I've been waiting for you."

All of her anxiety went away as soon as he spoke. He took her hand and began to lead her out of the room.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked.

With a smirk he replied, "Don't you know Hermione? Don't you know who I am?"

Stopping in the corridor, he looked her square in the face. "You know who I am," he stated. "You just don't know it yet."

He leaned into her and kissed her on the cheek. Hermione blushed. "But how can that be so?"

Placing a finger over her lips, he began to walk again, manoeuvring the complicated pathways with ease. The feeling of his hand clasped around hers was enough to make her head spin, and she did not question him, but merely followed.

Before she knew it, they were in front of the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, with the Fat Lady staring at them in disbelief.

He turned to her and swiftly, gently, placed a kiss on her lips. She gave him a quizzical look, but then pulled him closer, kissing him again and running her fingers through his hair. The kiss grew heated before he broke away.

"Goodnight Hermione."

And then he was gone.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Hermione woke up, angry at herself for having such trouble at deciphering who her dream-boy was. Thumping her pillow a couple of times in frustration, she fell back asleep, repeating to herself the list of attributes she was sure about.

That smirk…

That hair…

That body…

That smell…

That voice…

And of course, that increase in heart rate she felt anytime she was near him in her dreams.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Sitting at breakfast later that morning, Hermione was attempting to eat and translate her Ancient Runes homework at the same time. Struggling over a particularly difficult rune, she looked up to spy Ginny walking her way.

"Hermione! They just posted the date of the next Hogsmeade trip, are you going to come?" Ginny asked excitedly.

"Well… I don't know…"

"Aw, come on Hermione. You need to get out of here. Come on, it's next Saturday. Please!" Ginny asked, with an attempt at a puppy dog face.

Hermione couldn't resist. "Okay Ginny, I'll come with you."

Ginny smiled, and began to eat her breakfast. Still looking up, Hermione gazed at the different house tables. The once distinct separations between the houses had melded into a general consensus that one could sit wherever they liked. This was especially evident today. Nearly all the Slytherins had deserted their table in favour of sitting with others, even Gryffindors. All except for one, Draco Malfoy.

She looked at him for awhile, thinking back to what he had said in Potions class. Her life had been hard, true, but the way he had spoken revealed a whole other level of pain. Hermione mused at what it must feel like. To have been part of the Death Eaters, to have committed terrible acts, and to have to look at the castle everyday and remember that. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Midway through her thoughts he looked up, and caught her staring. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively, but gave a slight smile. Hermione blushed and turned back to her Ancient Runes notes, picking up her quill and beginning to scribble down her translation.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

She had a free period that morning, and thus continued writing her translations in the Great Hall, for fear of losing her train of thought by moving to the library or the Gryffindor common room.

It was not until a great while later that someone sat down beside her. Thinking that she had been alone, Hermione jumped, making her visitor smirk.

"Malfoy! Merlin, you scared me."

"Perhaps you shouldn't focus so much on your schoolwork then," he drawled, turning towards her. "Although earlier you didn't seem to be too interested in your parchment."

Blushing, Hermione murmured, "Sorry about that."

"Sorry that you were staring at me? Oh come on Granger, I get that all the time. Or, used to I suppose." Pausing a second, Malfoy continued. "The ladies have never really liked me as much after my stint with the Death Eaters."

"That's what I was thinking about earlier... when I was looking at you." Hermione looked up from her parchment, "I wanted to let you know that, if you ever um... need someone to talk to, that... well... I'm here."

Taken aback Malfoy looked back at her with his grey eyes. "You're saying that truthfully? Not as a joke, not just to say something to fill the conversation?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "I am."

"You're different now Granger. You looked almost forlorn the other day in Potions class."

"And you're not different Malfoy? You've actually been talking to me for more than five seconds and you haven't called me a Mudblood yet."

"War changes things."

"Yeah... I guess it does."

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Walking into the Gryffindor common room later that day, Hermione was accosted by Ginny, who looked at her with genuine surprise.

"'Mione. What happened today? You look... almost happy."

"I dunno Ginny. I guess I just had a good day, that's all."

Shrugging, Ginny added, "Oh, okay. D'you mind helping me with my Charms homework? Professor Flitwick gave us 3 feet of parchment on the dangers of the Obliviation spell."

"Of course Ginny."

"Thanks Hermione! You're the best you know."


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione Granger awoke suddenly to find herself in a place that she did not recognize. The walls appeared dark, perhaps stone? And there was a feeling of damp, although that was quelled somewhat by the presence of a roaring fire in the massive fireplace on the far side of the room. Adjusting her eyes to the light, Hermione squinted. It was only then that she noticed she was not alone. Lying in the large bed beside her was a man. She examined his form in the firelight and noticed that he was thin, but muscular, and appeared to be tall. His hair seemed to be a light colour, but whether it was light brown or blonde she could not tell in the dim light. He also appeared to be shirtless, the top muscles of his back peeking out from under the warm feather duvet.

Why was she in bed with a man who she could not recognize, and why wasn't he wearing a shirt? Becoming self-conscious, Hermione looked down at herself and noticed that in the comfort of the duvet she had neglected to realize that she was stark naked.

She wrapped the duvet around herself tighter, and, in the process, woke up the sleeping man.

His eyes looked up at her, and he smiled. "Bad dream 'Mione?"

As soon as he spoke all her fears were soothed, and she relaxed back down into the covers. As she did so, the man wrapped his sinewy arms around her and kissed the nape of her neck. "Love you," he whispered.

Hermione rolled over to meet his face, but it was obscured by the shadows. Then, throwing caution to the wind, she pulled herself closer to him. Their lips touched in a furious embrace, but several minutes later it ended with, "Sorry love, but we've both got classes tomorrow." With a smirk, he kissed her cheek and rolled back over, fluffed his pillow and then was motionless.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Once again Hermione woke up with a start, finding herself exiting the dream world and being thrust back into reality.

Grumpy, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever figure out who the mystery man of her dreams was. She knew it was turning into a problem. Every time he appeared in her dreams, she found herself falling deeper and deeper. It started out with a mere curiosity, then a physical attraction, and now, she feared, it was turning into love. Love for a boy who, for all she knew, could be a figment of her imagination, and not actually a real person like she believed – and hoped – he was.

After attempting to fall back asleep multiple times, Hermione sat up in bed. Her clock read 2:00 AM. Deciding she was in need of a hot cocoa from the kitchens, she pulled her dressing gown down off of its hook and got up. Creeping out of the Gryffindor dormitories, Hermione made her way down the familiar passageways that would lead her the to the kitchens. The house elves would be sleeping at this time of night, but Hermione relished the idea of making something for herself for once. Even if it was only a simple cup of hot cocoa.

Tickling the large green pear in the painting, Hermione was granted access to the kitchens. She strode immediately to where the kettle was sitting. While heating up the water with magic, she found some cocoa mix and a mug. Soon she put the mug to her lips, and, taking a small sip, sighed.

She turned around, and was about to make the return trip back up to her dormitory when she noticed a figure sitting on a sofa in the corner, which Hermione could only assume was a new acquisition because she had never seen it there before.

"I wondered when you were going to notice I was here, Granger," drawled Malfoy. "You seemed rather intent on that cup of cocoa. Do you always take that much interest in your beverages?"

"Only when they're of the late-night variety." Hermione replied, sighing and taking a seat on the sofa. "What are you doing down here so late?"

"Couldn't sleep. But that's nothing new. I'm usually here every night." Malfoy stated. When Hermione raised a quizzical brow, he added, "Nightmares." She nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She paused. "My mum always said that if I told her about a bad dream I'd never have it again. It always worked when I was younger."

"There are some things you can't erase from your mind, no matter how hard you try." Malfoy scoffed.

"Suit yourself." Hermione began to get up.

"Wait." He reached for Hermione's arm to stop her, and her skin felt shocked at the contact. He looked up at her, and their eyes met. She sat back down, and he began to tell her of his dreams.

Voldemort, the Dark Mark, his mother and father, Avada Kedavra, Crabbe, Goyle, Snape, the trio, curses flying, bodies everywhere, the stench of singed flesh, and the tears, the endless tears. As Malfoy told her of the dreams, the images floated through her mind. They were similar to her memories of the Final Battle, but with one marked difference. He had been on the bad side. He told her of the pain, the anguish, the remorse and the realization that everything that he had once known was wrong.

How long they sat there, Draco - for with all of this information, Hermione could only think of him that way – merely talking quietly, pausing now and again, and herself, listening attentively, nodding now and again, and asking questions when she needed clarification, Hermione could not say.

It was only once he'd finished his last story that they noticed how close they had gotten. Sitting on the sofa, their thighs were nearly touching, their eyes intently watching each other. Draco moved closer, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I should get back to bed." Hermione mumbled, getting up. "I have Arithmancy class early tomorrow morning."

"Yes... of course." Draco whispered, as he too stood up. "Perhaps I should attempt to sleep as well. Let's see if your theory works." He chuckled, and a slight smile graced his face.

They walked together in silence until the point in their path where it was necessary for them to part.

"Thanks Granger."

"Granger? I think after all you've told me you can call me Hermione." Hermione said with a chuckle.

"Ah. Hermione then. And I suppose you should call me Draco instead of the usual Malfoy." Draco smiled again. "Thanks Hermione… for everything. See you in Potions?"

"Of course, Draco."

"Until then." He gave her a little nod of his head and then ducked around the corner and down the stairs leading to the Slytherin common room.

She stood there for a few extra minutes. Almost hoping that he would come back around the corner again and look at her the way he had on the couch before she had abruptly gotten up. What had he been about to do? Kiss her?

As Hermione reluctantly walked back to her own common room, it took all of her willpower not to think about how it had made her feel when he had said her name.


	4. Chapter 4

The Forbidden Forest was dark at this time of night, and despite the _lumos _spell she was casting, all that Hermione could see in front of her was her wand and arm. This didn't discourage her however, as she made her way carefully through the brush and trees. She knew that she would find the place she was seeking.

After a few minutes more, she saw the familiar glow up ahead. Breaking into a run now, she quickly arrived at a dazzlingly bright river, at which there was a waterfall.

Under the waterfall, there was no surprise. He was there, floating on his back and looking completely relaxed.

Stripping off her robes and undergarments, she grinned as she snuck down to meet him.

Her arrival was a bit lacking however, as she slipped on the bank of the river and fell in with a splash.

Immediately he stood up to help her. She soon found herself wrapped up in his arms as he embraced her. A shiver tingled down her spine as he kissed her neck and collarbone. His kisses trailed downward until she couldn't think straight. Her hands ran through his hair. He pulled her closer and she was suddenly acutely aware of their nakedness.

As she looked up at him, she realized something odd. His face was fuzzy to her. As if it was a pastel drawing and someone had deliberately smudged it. Nothing else looked different except his face.

And then it all turned dark.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Hermione groggily rubbed her eyes as she awoke. The events of her dream rushed back to her in a stream of consciousness.

Groaning, she rolled over onto her side. When was it going to end? Her never-ending fantasies about this man had to stop sooner or later… right?

At that moment, her alarm clock went off. Despite it being a Saturday, Hermione still had lots she planned to get done before heading over to Hogsmeade with Ginny.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

After successfully completing 3 essays and using up a total of 21 feet of parchment, Hermione made her way back to the Gryffindor common room to find Ginny. A few minutes later they were off.

Although Hogsmeade didn't hold the same appeal it used to, Hermione still looked forward to going into Tomes and Scrolls, the book shop. She parted with Ginny there, as Ginny was far more interesting in visiting Gladrags Wizardwear and finding the latest trends in robes.

An hour later and Hermione Granger had not found even one book which she wished to purchase. She found that when looking, she either owned the book already or found it not worth buying. Becoming frustrated, she found the latest Daily Prophet and, sitting down on a chair in the sun, began to peruse it to clear her mind.

It wasn't long before she was interrupted by Draco Malfoy.

"Couldn't find anything better to read?" he asked, pushing down her newspaper.

She chuckled. "No, actually. I either own it or don't find it worth the galleons."

"Hmmm." He muttered to himself and then beckoned for her to follow him, as he began to walk through the stacks and shelves of books. He led her nearly all the way to the back of the store, and stopped in front of a shelf. Scanning the rows of books, it was a few seconds before he pulled out his intended suggestion.

"Phoenix Rising? Is this a fiction?"

Draco nodded. "I know it's not usually your thing, but I read it awhile ago, and it was quite good. The whole, redemption, rising from the ashes thing."

"It certainly sounds good." Hermione smiled. "I wonder if I know the author. Camfod Raylo?" Hermione closed her eyes in a moment of deep concentration.

Within a minute, she had opened her eyes and was pointing squarely at Draco's chest. "It's you." She said simply.

"Perhaps." Draco smirked. "However, I have other business to attend to here in Hogsmeade. Read it. Let me know what you think." He leaned over slightly and Hermione felt as if she could not breathe. His lips gently touched her cheek. He turned to walk away, but stopped. "You were right you know. No more nightmares." With a smile he strode out of the store.

Hermione stood there for a few seconds, catching her breath. Did that actually just happen?

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Meeting back up with Ginny, Hermione settled in at the Hog's Head with a pint of butterbeer.

"So, what's been going on with you lately 'Mione? I haven't seen you around the castle much." Ginny inquired.

"Well, I have been studying more than usual, but that's just because of all the essays I've had to write this week. And… well… there has been something else going on."

Ginny leaned in closer. "I knew it!" she whispered.

"Well… It's Draco."

At this, Ginny nearly spat butterbeer in Hermione's face. "You and Draco?"

"No… not really… I… I don't even really know. We've talked quite a bit, but, the thing that's really getting me is this book he suggested I read when I was at Tomes and Scrolls earlier."

"Phoenix Rising by Camfod Raylo?" Ginny asked as she examined the book.

"He wrote it. I'm almost positive. When I called him out about it he just said 'Perhaps' and walked out." Hermione sighed.

"But the thing is… I've spent the past two hours sitting in Tomes and Scrolls reading it. And it's good… really good. And, before he left, he gave me a peck on the cheek… and I'm just so confused! I mean, the other day I really thought he was going to kiss me after we sat and talked in the kitchens after hours for at least an hour, but I got up too quickly. And then today, and apparently, I made his nightmares stop and… oh Ginny, I just don't know what to think anymore." Hermione breathed deeply. In and out. In and out, she reminded herself.

Ginny, quite frankly, was speechless. However, believing that not saying anything might actually make Hermione hyperventilate even more, she started with, "It's okay. Everything's going to work out fine. I promise." Taking a deep breath herself, Ginny continued. "Hermione, it really seems as if he likes you. I don't know what you did to break that stone Malfoy heart of his, but it worked. Y'know, now that I think about it… he has been different lately. I mean, he was different after the war, but it seems as if he's changed again. I think he's happier. Whenever I've seen him recently, he looks happy." Ginny paused. "It's the same with you. You're happier; you're going back to the old Hermione again."

"You really think so Gin?"

"Yeah. I really do Hermione. This could be just what you need."

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Heading back to the Gryffindor common room after dinner, Hermione nearly ran head on into none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Hermione. I was hoping I'd run into you. Not quite so literally of course." He smiled. Ginny was right, he was looking happier.

"I was wondering if you could help me out with my Potions essay tomorrow. It's supposed to be four feet of parchment, but I can only seem to manage one." He smirked.

"Of course, can we meet in the library? I'll be in there anyways, getting a head start on next weeks Ancient Runes translations."

"Eight o'clock?"

"Sounds great."


End file.
